


Ivy

by catthedoodlecatcher



Category: The Owl House (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Family Drama, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Lumity, cute fluff, fluff with plot, i love my kids, lumity nation rise, regency period with magic, this fic is literally just self-indulgence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29064519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catthedoodlecatcher/pseuds/catthedoodlecatcher
Summary: Amity and Luz are next-door neighbours in the bustling city of London 1813. At least, that's what everyone else sees them as. But Amity and Luz share a bond that goes deeper than simply that of friends. That can remain a secret forever...right?
Relationships: Amity Blight/Luz Noceda, Lumity - Relationship
Comments: 45
Kudos: 156





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Me, watching Bridgerton: This is problematic and also would be better with some wlw content. 
> 
> My brain: ...write a fic in the same style universe but with magic and gays.
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTES: This is going to be a HAPPY ending fic so don't worry, I won't be breaking any hearts!! Just wanted to clear up that in this version of TOH 'universe' Amity and Luz are based in London BUT it is a London with magic. I did this because I wanted to emulate Bridgerton vibes but make it GAY because the gays also deserve fluffy regency period drama okay? So it's sort of a mix between magic/regency/earth? Trust me it'll make sense I promiseeeee :)
> 
> ALSO there are no trigger warnings on this fic because nothing graphic/violent will be in this fic at all. However, if internalised homophobia/homophobic attitudes from family upset you, this might not be the fic for you. The story title is also based on the Taylor Swift song but there will be NO cheating in this fic, only angst as Amity tries to ward off unwanted proposals and come to terms with her feelings for Luz so look after yourself and read my other lumity fic 'I should live in salt' instead if you don't like the sound of that! I will make sure to note on each chapter any content warnings necessary!
> 
> This fic will be around 2-3 chapters with this being the prologue, so I hope you enjoy. Happy reading! :) x

Ivy

When Amity was eleven years old, her mother had told her she would be marrying at around the age of eighteen. Amity had been playing with her wand in the drawing room, sat cross-legged on the floor.

She had known this already, of course, deep down in her heart. Emira had told her all about debutantes and balls and marriage but she hadn’t quite believed her. Hadn’t really been interested. Hadn’t quite seen the logic. _Who would want to marry a man anyway? Is it something that comes with age?_ She hadn’t said that to Emira, of course. It seemed sort of…out of place. Like Amity was being weird about something completely natural.

Amity had placed her wand on the floor, tentatively, and looked into her mother’s eyes for any signs of a joke.

“All daughters have to marry at that age, dear.” Those eyes were golden, fierce, and every ounce as serious as ever.

She had frowned. “Willow says she’s never going to get married. Do I really have to?”

Mrs Blight had scowled then, harshly, and Amity had felt fear coil in her stomach in that familiar sickening way. “I don’t care what your barbarous friend Willow thinks she can do with her life. _You_ , Amity Blight, are more than she will ever be. You will marry a powerful wizard and you will like it. Until then, you will not speak to that girl any more.”

And that day was the last time she ever spoke to Willow Park, the girl a few streets away from her.

-

Now, at the age of eighteen, Amity knows that her time is running short. It’s a matter of weeks, days, _hours_ until her parents finally find her someone they deem ‘suitable’ and she is desperate to avoid it at all costs. There’s nothing to do in their damned town house but sit around and wait but she itches to run past all of the household staff and dash into the nearest crowd. She wants to disappear.

Amity Blight does not want to marry a stranger. Amity Blight does not want to marry a wizard she doesn’t know. Most importantly, most earth-shatteringly importantly, she knows that she is corrupted in her innermost soul.

She has never loved a man but she _has_ loved a woman. Correction: she _loves_ a woman. That woman lives just on the other side of the fence. Right next door.

Luz Noceda is her next-door neighbour: her best friend. Amity will never love anyone, any wizard, as much as she loves her.

She curls her knees up to her chest, rests her head on them, and sighs. That familiar fear coils in her chest as she hears the knocking, the beckoning of her maid telling her she must prepare to be dressed.

_Love is a damnable thing._


	2. The Apple Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hands." - Ivy, Taylor Swift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hyper-focused on writing this one afternoon and then couldn't really be bothered to reread and edit it so um...if you spot any writing mistakes I'm SORRY!! 
> 
> Also this is like basically the second prologue the actual plot will be happening in the next chapter I swear and there will be more characterisationnnn but errr guess i'm like Luz bc I just love backstories. I want to really take time to build this world, introduce the magic system and create a really cute happy ending bc in short I am *bored* in lockdown and have literally nothing else to do (apart from uni work but sshh).
> 
> Trigger warnings for vague internalised homophobia (courtesy of the time period) but other than that this chapter is just angst and fluff.
> 
> Happy reading folks xx

Apart from their infrequent holidays to their country house, Amity Blight had lived in London all of her life. The same street with huge white houses adorned with black beams, black fencing and brown tiled roofs. Each house was what her mother called ‘medium sized’ although Amity could have sworn each one to be remarkably big. She knew her family was well off, or even rich, and the neighbourhood seemed to prove that.

Not that Amity minded the being well off part. Having maids was lovely: they sometimes played with her and were kind to her and Amity used to sneakily help them around the house because she loved having the knowledge of how things were done. She wanted to learn as much as she could including how to cook, clean, sew, dust, polish and shine. Helena was her particular favourite because she recite Amity all the poems she knew and even taught Amity how to read sonnets and appreciate them.

She also enjoyed the space their house provided. The walls were all an airy white, accented only by the wooden tables, the front door and the staircase that led to the second floor (where everyone had their own bedroom). The kitchen and living room occupied the downstairs. The kitchen had a huge gas stove that Amity loved watching be used (the fire excited her greatly) and she enjoyed looking at the different vegetables she had helped grow in the garden be prepared by the cooks.

The only thing she didn’t like was her family.

Okay, not her _whole_ family. She loved her older twin brother and sister Edric and Emira. She had always admired their shiny green hair, a dark emerald colour, and their incredible wit, which they seemed to share through some sort of secret mind sorcery. But they were always together, always off planning or playing or doing something by themselves that Amity was never invited to. She loved them, but they often left her behind.

Her parents…were different. They didn’t like her avid interest in the home. Her mother thought it especially disdainful.

“Why would you want to learn to polish _windows_?” Her hair bun had been particularly tight that day, green locks scraped back so furiously that her forehead had looked strained and angry.

“Helena said she’d teach me the spells. I like magic, mother.”

“Wealthy girls like you only need to worry about magic concerning their covens. Since you haven’t chosen a coven, and won’t until you are eighteen, I suggest you retract that interest.”

So Amity avoided her mother at all costs. Her father was always away on business. She wanted a friend, a playmate. Someone to share secrets with and maybe climb trees with. But she was not ungrateful.

-

Amity met Luz Noceda when she was nine years old. Mr. Belos, the old man who had lived next-door to them for several years, had died suddenly (Amity didn’t know what of) and the house had been occupied, ever since, but Luz and her mother Camila.

The first time she actually _met_ Luz was a few days after their move. Amity had been playing in the garden, trying to spell the flowers in their flowerbed upright. Plant magic hadn’t ever been her strong suit, even then, but she had tried with great effort to revive her favourite flowers. Technically, you weren’t supposed to practice wild magic (you were supposed to wait until you were eighteen and you had joined a coven) but no one was looking. And simple spells _were_ allowed. When they had wilted, despite her efforts to revive them, she had thrown herself to the ground in frustration, folded her arms and sat _humph_ ing to herself.

And then there was a girl standing next to her. A girl she had never met before.

Turning around so she could see her new companion Amity had squinted the sun from her view in order to see the girl. She was shorter than Amity and wore a simple white dress. Skinnier too. Her arms and legs were lithe (she looked athletic) and her cheeks were supple and round. Her skin was a caramel brown, her eyes a deep earthy tone. Her hair matched her eyes, the ends curling slightly. Her grin was gap-toothed.

She had squatted down next to Amity, her face no more than two inches away.

“What’s the matter?”

Amity had turned her face away, an embarrassed flush sweeping her cheeks. “The flowers…” but she couldn’t elaborate. She was ashamed.

Luz had sat down next to her, despite her having been wearing a white dress that was definitely to be stained by the muddy grass, and observed the situation. Still smiling, she closed her eyes and placed a palm on the soil in front of them and took a deep deep breath. Amity had watched, fascinated.

The flowers that had been so wilted suddenly sprung to full bloom. Luz had opened those deep brown eyes with triumph and turned to face her new neighbour. She had held out her hand. “My name is Luz Noceda. Who are you?”

Amity had extended her hand. The handshake seemed weirdly formal. It felt like they were already friends. “Amity Blight. Will you play with me?”

They played in the garden all afternoon, chasing each other around the herb patch and trying to catch falling cherry blossom petals from the cherry tree. They ended up being reprimanded by Amity’s maid, Helena, who had come to look for Luz.

Amity hadn’t even questioned where Luz had come from until then, but it appeared that her and her mother had come to say hello to their new neighbours. Amity noted that Luz and Camila looked similar in the way she and her father did. She also noted that Camila’s eyes grew three sizes when she looked at Luz. Her mother’s decidedly did not do that whenever she looked at Amity.

As her family waved them out the door, Luz had turned back quickly. Her eyes glinted with mischief.

“Goodbye, Ams.”

The nickname made her feel…squishy. “Goodbye…”

-

By the time they are twelve, Amity and Luz know everything about each other. Which isn’t so hard, since they spend almost all of their time together. Mrs. Blight (begrudgingly) takes them to the marketplace and lets them buy one penny sweets. Camila lets them embroider in her living room on the weekends. Edric and Emira supervise endless play dates, secret meetings, and romps around each other’s gardens. But Amity never gets tired of Luz, the way her face shines in the sun, the way her hair curls slightly at the ends, the way her arms feel around her when they embrace.

They say it to each other all the time.

“My dearest Amity!”

“My dearest Luz!”

Then they giggle and giggle even though it isn’t really that funny. It’s what grown up ladies say to each other all the time but it sounds ridiculous when the say it to each other.

There is another thing they say all the time. They whisper it in each other’s ears, say it when no one is looking, clasp each other’s hands and say it with their eyes.

_I love you._

_I love you too._

_I love you more._

But it’s friendship. All in good fun, of course.

-

When Amity is fourteen years old, her family, along with Luz, takes a fortnight in spring to their country house just outside of London. It is that Spring, looking back on it now, that led to everything else afterwards of significance for Amity’s strange and unnatural feelings.

She remembers the journey: the carriage ride with her, Luz, Ed and Emira (her parents’ in a separate vehicle) and the joy that lit Luz’s face up with such radiance whenever they passed a field with cows or corn or huge sprigs of barley. She remembers that sitting so close to Luz had made her insides fizz for some reason she couldn’t explain at all, not even to herself. Most of all, she remembers it being Emira’s last spring before debutante season and the conversation they were having on that quaint little journey.

Luz had been extra curious about the season. “What’s your greatest fear about it?”

“Being alone forever.” Ed.

“Being stuck with _you_ forever.” Em.

Amity remembers giggling as Ed had frowned like a kicked puppy and Emira had simply giggled, tousling his hair affectionately. “I was playing with you, silly.”

That had cheered up Ed, who’d nodded his head self-righteously. Luz had smiled at the both of them and whispered to Amity in a hushed voice “I always wondered what being a twin would be like.”

“Why?”

“To have someone who’s been with you since your very first breath. Imagine being so close to someone that they have always been with you even when you weren’t really with yourself.”

Amity had blinked, confounded at the thought. “That’s how I feel about you.”

A pause. Two eyes, gold and brown fixed on each other. Luz had smiled then, her cheeks apples of rosy red; her brown eyes shining with something Amity couldn’t name but desperately wanted to keep. “Yes. Yes, that’s how I feel too.”

-

Luz had been gobsmacked by their country house. It would have been funny if Amity hadn’t been staring at her so much. She couldn’t stop just…looking at her and it was beginning to throw her off her usual teasing habits. Every time they had met to spend time together lately she had found it harder and harder to tear her eyes away from Luz.

Luz wasn’t wrong though. It _was_ a nice house. The style was contemporary but the building itself was an old part of a medieval monastery. The walls were creamy beige and there were huge windows on each side that let sunlight sweep through the building effortlessly. There were steps that led up to the front door, there was a front garden filled with trimmed hedges and a fountain and the columns that flanked the entryway were indeed impressive. Amity knew that if she were seeing it for the first time she would also be impressed. Luz looked beautiful when she was impressed. Amity had decided, then, to try and impress Luz at every opportunity she was given.

Luz, being a guest for the first time in the country house, was shown her room by the maid whilst Amity had made herself cosy in her own room, fluffing the pillows and flinging herself onto the newly made bed with no grace to be seen. She had fought with her parents viciously for Luz’s right to be able to accompany them (not that Luz needed to _ever_ know that) because the idea of being parted from her best friend had genuinely made her heart wrench inside her chest to the point of extreme pain. Camila had immediately given her consent for Luz to come because she was the kindest woman Amity had ever met. Sometimes she wished Camila was her mother and then she felt incredibly guilty about even entertaining the thought. And there was something else about that sentiment that felt sort of wrong somehow, although she couldn’t pinpoint why.

She had sighed, covered her eyes with her right arm and closed them gently. Was she being dramatic? Maybe. But Luz, sometimes, felt like her only friend in the world. The only person Amity really…needed. If Luz wasn’t around even for a few days back at home she noticed it so sharply. Was that weird? She wasn’t sure normal friendships were meant to be like that. She wasn’t sure about many things. Alas, she was only fourteen. Fourteen wasn’t eighteen. Amity knew (Emira had told her) that eighteen was the age when everything began to make sense, so she would just have to wait.

But she’d fought extremely hard with her parents, had begged and campaigned and learnt a whole new series of household cleaning spells just to prove how serious she was and they’d finally agreed to it. To Luz coming. Begrudgingly. However. Their treatment of Luz so far was nice. That was all she could hope for.

Realising that perhaps twenty minutes had passed of her moping, she leapt off the bed in renewed excitement and dressed herself in her favourite spring dress (a pale yellow with light pink flowers intertwined all across the fabric) and raced along the hallway to Luz’s guest room. Luz had evidently had the same thought and they met in the middle, panting a little from the excitement. Without words (they never needed words) Luz grabbed Amity’s hand and they descended the stairs of the house together and headed straight for the garden. Amity held it in her head, that particular memory, as something extremely special. The naturalness of their affection, the easiness of their hands held tightly together. It was a gift. A shining glimmer of hope in the black night sky.

-

They spent most of that spring in the garden. Dinners had been Luz’s favourite part of her stay (she got to show off her knowledge of various poems and plays she had secretly read in front of Em and Ed) but Amity’s favourite moments were in the garden, where they would clamber up the huge apple tree at the end of it and tell each other stories.

Luz was a wonderful storyteller.

Amity’s stories were never very exciting. She could only think of stories about bugs and little animals. But Luz? Luz told Amity about the adventures of pirates on high seas, princesses in towers, highway men falling in love with common robbers and, best of all, the story of two girls in an apple tree. She would start it the same every time:

“In a different universe, they would sit in an apple tree at the end of a huge garden, just like you and me, but the apples in their tree were far different to ours.”

Amity would lean forward, transfixed every time. Their faces would always be close, Amity’s flushed pink (she didn’t know why) and Luz’s eyes sparkling with glee at her friend’s deep interest. “Why were the apples different?”

“They were apples of… _temptation._ ”

She would gasp, Luz would giggle. And then she would continue: stories of two girls eating the apples, gaining a wondrous knowledge and running away to escape those who wished to take it from them. There was always something in that story, Amity knew, that was significant. But she could never place what it was.

-

By the time they were sixteen Luz accompanying them for their fortnight-long stay in their country house was tradition. Neither Amity’s mother nor father would fight it anymore. Edric and Emira would be excited by the prospect (Luz was loveable). Amity would long for those two weeks every single moment each year.

It wasn’t like being neighbours was unfulfilling in any way. They met up all the time, went on walks, visited local monuments, and traipsed around the marketplace. But these meetings had to be in company, they had to be chaperoned by at least one adult, and moments where they were truly alone were second to none. The only time they managed to sneak around so it was just the two of them was in the summer, wherein the fall of night while the air was still warm and their parents were asleep, they would slip into their gardens, Amity would spell herself over Luz’s fence and they would sit huddled up against that wooden wall. Luz would have a candle in the palm of her hand. They would sit shoulder-to-shoulder, knee-to-knee. Every part of their bodies touching.

But the spring when Amity turned sixteen was to be one of significance. It happened on the second last night of their stay in the country house. It was a moment that shattered her heart and rebuilt it all at the same time.

They had snuck into the garden in the late hours, as per usual. Everyone was in bed, including the maids, so they had both slipped into the kitchen to grab a slice of bread and butter each and then had padded softly into the garden. When they had managed to escape into the night, they glanced sideways at each other and soon they were bolting for the end of the garden, for their tree, laughing in hushed heaves of merriment. Amity’s nightgown flapped against her body in the wind but her heart was growing bigger with every pounding step she took, every breath that shook her lungs. She had never felt so _free_.

Luz had beaten her to the tree.

“Losers climb up last.”

“You only beat me by three seconds!”

Luz had smirked, her gaze intense in the moonlight. “Losers. Climb. Up. Last.”

And with that, she had scampered up the tree, leaving Amity on the ground blushing furiously, smiling to herself. When Luz had settled into the best nook in those hefty tree branches, she closed her eyes, focused in. She felt the magic pull her off her feet and into the air slowly at first, until she was floating gracefully. With care, she ascended into the branch opposite Luz, eyes half-open in focus, and let the magic slip away from her body. She had grinned, pleased with herself. Luz had smiled at her in that way she saved just for Amity. The corners of her mouth would go soft; her eyes would melt into pools. She looked like a real life angel.

“You know that climbing is more fun, don’t you?”

“Maybe, but I have to practice somewhere.”

Luz had continued smiling, rolled her eyes a little, and lent back on the branch to look up at the night sky. The green leaves of the apple tree only obscured a portion of their vision, and the starry sky was particularly beautiful that night. Each one twinkled with something that felt important. Amity spread her legs across the branches so that her pale skin became entangled with Luz’s own golden legs, also outstretched.

“Tell me a story, Luz.”

Luz was leaning back on her branch, eyes closed, so Amity did that too. The feeling of Luz’s legs made her head spin anyway.

“There are two girls” Luz began “in a different universe that look just like us. They’re sitting in an apple tree, right this minute, but instead of being able to eat the apples they are told that they should never do such a thing.”

“Did they eat them?”

“The girl who looked like you was too good to ever consider eating the apples. However, the girl who looked like me….she thought about it. She thought about it almost every day, every time she looked at the tree.”

Amity’s eyes weren’t closed anymore. She was intently staring at Luz (who was still leaning back, eyes closed). This felt important somehow. Was Luz trying to tell her…something?

“What happened?”

“One night,” Luz shifted so her legs redrew from Amity’s, and Amity felt cold, “she asked the girl who looked like you if she’d ever thought of eating the apples and the girl said ‘no, have you?’ and she said ‘yes’”.

“What then?”

“The girl who looked like me had her heart broken. The girl who looked like you was so disgusted she never spoke to her again.”

“I would never not speak to you.”

Luz opened a singular eye, gazing at her with a questioning look that was almost impossible to read. But there was something… “Are you sure?”

“I would swear it on my life.”

And she couldn’t stop herself, didn’t know what her body was doing before it had done it, but suddenly there was no space between them and Amity had curled herself into Luz’s side, clutching at her shoulder and burying her head in Luz’s hair. Because after all this time, she finally pieced it together in her head. She knew it because she felt it too. “You’re everything to me, everything in this world is wonderful, but you’re everything to me.”

Luz had met her eyes, met her gaze. Her irises were blazing and Amity felt her insides start to burn. _This is really happening. This doesn’t feel real at all._

When they kissed, for the first time in that apple tree under that dark spring sky, Amity felt stars behind her closed eyes align in every shape and form. There was no voice in her head, no worry about what it all meant, because the motions were motioning themselves. She was just letting them be.

It wasn’t like what she’d read in books, namely because Luz wasn’t a man. Luz was very much a girl. Luz was delicate and smelt wonderful and reminded Amity of something soft and sweet and gentle. It wasn’t like what she’d read in books because there was no romantic proposal before the kiss, there was no learning to love the groom before the romance set it, because she’d loved Luz all her life.

Luz had tasted like butter and bread and flowers and peppermint. Amity had felt her skin beneath her fingers, soft and plump in all the right places. She had circled her hands around Luz’s shoulders, clung to her flimsy white nightgown and pulled her closer to her so their bodies had melted into one candle, one burning burning flame.

When they drew breath, Luz didn’t open her eyes. Her expression was blissful. Amity counted the freckles sprinkled on her nose.

“Have you ever-“

“Why would I have ever kissed anyone else?”

“This isn’t right.”

Amity had shifted, traced her fingers down Luz’s face. “Maybe not.”

“We can’t tell anyone we did that.”

“Who would I tell?”

A pause. “I don’t know.”

“I would tell you, if it wasn’t you already.”

“Are you sure you’ve never-“

“Of course not! We’re not…this isn’t supposed to happen until.” _until we’re both married._

Luz knew. Luz heard those words, even though Amity never spoke them. “I’m scared, Amity.” And it hurt her, how scared Luz really was and how she was beginning to feel, because Luz never called her by her full name. That’s how she knew they were doomed.

Amity had felt it then, the wave of what had just happened wash over her. It had chilled her bones because this _wasn’t_ normal. Nor was it allowed. Ever.

“I’m scared too, Luz.”

“I could love a man, I think, but that’s not…who I want.”

“There’s no one else for me. Not now, not ever.”

“I lo-“

“Don’t say it.”

Silence. A furrowing of Luz’s brow. “Why not? You know what I’m going to say.”

Amity had swallowed. “It’s not allowed. You know it’s not allowed.”

“What’s the real reason?”

Amity had stared down at her legs, which were now dangling from the branch. Her white nightdress had settled over them in a rumple of fabric. Tears were spotting it. How could a witch, how could _she,_ feel so happy and so distraught all at the same time?

“You’ll break my heart.”

-

They’ve become so good at slipping out of their respective houses into the gardens unseen that Amity swears they must be illegally using some sort of magic spell. Her house, the Blight town house, is nothing special. One thing it _is_ is big. Huge, even. Her bedroom, covered in the same white walls as the rest of the house and adorned with green accented bed sheets, curtains and a vanity led into the hallway, which led to the staircase. The staircase was, again, nothing special but wide, each step thin enough to only take a small motion of the foot to gravitate from one to the next. At night, when she tiptoes down the flight to the ground floor she then has to curve around to the right and sneak out the back way, the way the maids go to collect fresh water, in order to slip into the garden.

The darkness is one thing in winter because it is then also accompanied by an unrelenting cold wind, typical of London weather, but summer nights are warm and hazy. Summer nights feel like moments paused in time where anything is possible. Where two girls can meet by the broken fence panel, each holding a candle, and embraces the glow of the night.

This night is no different. The Blight’s are a family of routine. Her mother goes to bed at ten o’clock exactly, leaving her with plenty of time to pull on a shawl over her pale white night gown and glide silently down the stairs into the garden, closing the door ever so carefully behind her

Their garden is small (it is their town house, after all) with a few simple rows of herb garden and vegetables which Amity’s favourite maid Helena tends to each day with utmost pride. She sidesteps them carefully and slinks along the fencing counting _one two three four five six_ until she finds _seven_ the loose panel. She crouches into a sitting position, candle carefully held in her left hand, and uses her right to gently push the panel inwards so it slides to the other side. Into Luz’s garden.

Not even a few seconds later, the panel feels the pressure the other way and it is being pushed at gently, allowing the grin on Amity’s face to fully form in reassurance. She blows her candle out, the darkness engulfing her temporarily, as she half-closes her eyes and feels the magic pull at her feet, her legs, her arms. She is floating gently over the fence, landing gently on the concrete pathway. She sets herself down cross-legged next to Luz.

Luz’s candle burns brightly, highlighting her face with amber glow, which is so incredibly beautiful Amity feels her breath slip away from her all at once. _There is nothing in this world_ she thinks _more breath-taking than Luz Noceda._

A whisper in the glowing dark. “Ams?”

A breath, a sigh. “Luz.”

And there’s a routine to this part, too. A reoccurring set of events. Luz places the candle down, ever so gently beside them on the concreted garden path, and then they face each other, look at each other, in a way that is absolutely not allowed at any other time in any other place. Amity counts Luz’s freckles to see if there are any new ones, runs her thumb across Luz’s right cheek and then she leans in closer so their foreheads touch.

It is the gentlest thing in the world. A series of soft events that leaves them reeling. If Amity had known that this was allowed anywhere, _anywhere_ , she would have convinced Luz to run away with her long ago.

“Ams I-“

“Don’t say it.”

The whispers in the dark are the quietest whispers of all. Luz is barely audible. She sounds vulnerable. Fearful. “You know what I want to say. Why can’t I say it?”

Amity hopes Luz can’t hear her swallow, the saliva sticking to her throat with grief. This whole thing causes her the sweetest grief. “If you say it, Luz, you’ll break my heart.”

“You’re already breaking mine.”

Amity feels her tears well up. This is a part of the routine too. And it’s not Luz’s fault, nor hers. It’s everyone else’s fault. Society’s fault. Everything she wants is here in her arms and it is everything she cannot have.

“I’ve changed my mind, then. Say it so I won’t forget it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They kiss. It feels like atoms splitting apart. Luz’s candle snuffs out, leaving them alone in the darkness of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I'd confirm that I am working on other fics that aren't super niche, I know this isn't everyone's cup of tea! I just really wanted to write this for myself tbh as I haven't written anything in what feels like FOREVER aaand I watched Pride and Prejudice the other day lmao. 
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment and rave about lumity with me!! 
> 
> Until next time, stay safe and have a wonderful day/night :) x


	3. Camellias

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ball, a new beginning and a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A month without uploading she comes back with a chapter-
> 
> No but for real I always start fics and then suddenly every single essay I have to do for uni is due :,) I'm super busy now until May bUT I love this story and I will finish it!! Just maybe kind of very slowly oops. This chapter isn't too long, just more scene setting and yes this is deffo going to be more chapters than I originally thought it would be so I hope that's good news! 
> 
> Anyway, enough rambling and on to the story. See you in the end notes xx

“I wish _we_ could dance.”

Amity grins, glancing at Luz momentarily before refixing her gaze on the pavement as they walk along the bustling London market streets. “You don’t mean that.”

She knows Luz is grinning too (she doesn’t have to see it to know it). “Okay, well, I wish I didn’t have to dance with so many strangers. That’s the problem with these balls, they’re overflowing with people you’ve never met. What if I don’t like the way they move, or walk, or say my name?”

“Well, you have me to entertain you on the side-lines. You know…in between dances.”

Luz looks smug as she tucks her hair behind her ears. “Amity, out of both of us I _know_ you are going to get the most offers to dance, not me. We both do.”

Amity humphs. Crosses her arms in indignation. “That’s not true at all! You’re…” she glances away, feeling the flush, “really pretty. Everyone we walk past together always looks at you.”

But Luz is locking eyes with her now, brown irises blazing. _She’s so intense._ “Maybe I’m pretty. But Amity… _you_ are gorgeous. Soon, everyone is high society is going to know it, not just me.”

She feels her insides convulse with a mixture of pleasure at Luz’s words and fear at how intensely they burn her heart up.

A particularly beautiful white horse passes them on the road, a black carriage in tow, and Amity takes the opportunity of passers-by admiring the beast to brush her hand quickly against Luz’s. As soon as the carriage passes, she whips her hand back to the crossed arms over her chest, clutching her shawl. Her face is red, she can feel it, but Luz is all conspiratorial smiles and glee. As if the reality of debutante season hasn’t quite sunk in yet, hasn’t quite taken an understanding in her mind. And in her deepest fantasies, Amity still also lives in those simple moments in that tree. That gentle first kiss. Those stars.

That was then. This is now.

Amity understands it all too well. Tomorrow she, Luz and every other girl who has come of age will be presented before the Queen. After that ordeal, they will be presented again at a ball. It is there that she and Luz will be expected to dance with any man who offers his hand and after _that_ it is then expected that she will receive…suitors.

Even imagining it makes her shudder. She hadn’t ever thought too much about marriage because it was natural, right? But marrying a man? She’d rather not.

She chews on her lip, feeling it, that fear, coil deep in her stomach. “Do you ever wonder- “

Luz nods. She already knows. “Yes.”

“I wonder all the time. And…. we’ll be given the right to our power’s tomorrow. It’s tradition.”

As they turn onto their street, Luz catches her eyes once again, and Amity notes that this time her face is all seriousness. “I know what you’re thinking and…you know it can’t happen.”

Her stomach clenches. “ _Why_?”

Luz shakes her head. “I can’t leave mami. Ever since dad died…she’d be devastated Ams. I can’t.”

So, Amity sighs, draws in her disappointment, and walks up the front steps of her town house. She turns back to face Luz just before the door is opened to her. “See you,” she glances around, makes sure no one is listening, “tonight?”

And she’s beautiful, just as she always is, standing in the sunlight with her arms hanging loosely at her side and her dress flowing slightly in the wind. Her dark skin is smooth and flawless. Her eyes are smouldering. Her hair curls at the ends, catching rays. _She isn’t yours. Never will be._

“See you tonight.” And God have mercy, her smile makes Amity’s heart swell.

-

Amity’s dreams are always memories. Always the _same_ memories.

_She’s fourteen years old, playing with Luz in her family living room. Camila Noceda is occupied elsewhere, and the housekeepers seem to be too. For this rare, blissful moment, they are the only two people in the world._

_Luz is sitting directly opposite her, legs crossed. She never sits like a lady when no one is around to scold her, so Amity does it too and feels pleased with herself for breaking such a small yet ridiculous rule. Luz leans toward her, smiling._

_“When we’re older, what do you think your husband will look like?”_

_Amity just blinks. This question is the same one Emira, her older sister, has asked her hundreds of times. Yet she still doesn’t really have an answer._

_“I don’t….I don’t know.”_

_Luz leans in even closer. Their noses touch and every fibre of Amity’s being is concentrated on the pinpoint. “My husband will take me to the countryside. He’ll spell us a house so tidy that it’ll shine in every corner and then we’ll bake bread together forever.”_

_Amity giggles, snorting in an un-lady like manner that would have her mother furious. “Baking bread? A cook can do that for you!”_

_Luz shakes her head. Smiles wistfully. “You don’t get it. I want to do it myself for the thrill of it.”_

_Amity wants to ask her a question so badly. It’s on her lips, rolling off her tongue and before she can stop herself “Have you ever kissed anyone?”_

_Luz winces, leans back. Amity curses herself for being so stupid._

_“What kind of girl do you think I am? Of course not!”_

_“Sorry I- “_

_“Have_ you _?!”_

_Luz looks defiant and curious all at once. Her eyes are such a deep brown. “No. But I’ve never wanted to.”_

_“Me neither.”_

_“I’ve never wanted to kiss any man.”_

_Luz scrunches her nose. It’s cute. “Can’t agree with you there.”_

_And something makes Amity’s chest feel itchy, almost like…disappointment. But why? “Well…who?”_

_Luz pulls her knees to her chest, rests her chin on top of them. “That’s for me to know and you to find out. And…”_

_Amity can hear someone coming along the hall. She whispers urgently. “And what?”_

_But Luz shakes her head again. Half of Luz’s sentences are head shakes. “Never mind.”_

-

The crowds are one thing to be intimidated by, but the ceremony is what Amity is dreading the most. Even though Emira has told her it isn’t so bad once it starts, the music and the stares from all the other women of age are starting to make beads of sweat throng on her forehead. And no, it’s not just because they’re all staring at each other trying to judge who will be in what coven (that’s expected), but the more irrational side of Amity can’t help noticing how every woman looks…well…nice.

So much nicer than any of the men. She scolds herself. _Stop!_

She’s wearing a white dress that doesn’t suit her. Her mother says it does, but it doesn’t. The neckline shows off her collarbones, something Amity is uncomfortable with, and her shoes rub her ankles. She wants to be with Luz in the shadowy nightlight of the garden, not in this great white palace hall, gold-rimmed roof beams and oak floor shining with joyless glamour.

The one thing she thinks as she walks down the carpet towards the queen, passing the onlookers of pretty girls, is that what will make all of this worth it will be the giving of the magic.

Witches and wizards of modern London were permitted to use their magic properly when eighteen. In their debut to society, the queen allowed them to join a coven. This, in turn, allowed them to legally use magic whenever they please, so long as it was the magic of the coven they’d chosen.

Amity didn’t get to choose hers, obviously. Her mother had chosen her a dress she didn’t like and a coven she had no interest in. ‘Abomination’ (a name and, she thought, a perfect description of the sort of magic practiced within it) was a forming of shapes. She had wanted to join the illusion coven with Emira and Edric.

The palace walls are beautiful.

She reaches her place before the steps after waiting in line and kneels before the queen, whose dark skin and golden eyes flash in the afternoon sun streaming through the huge windows. She is wearing an olive-green ball gown and a smile that does not quite reach her eyes. Once she has been kneeling for what feels like hours, there is a tap on her shoulder.

“Do you, Amity Blight, accept the contract of Abomination Coven?”

“I, Amity Blight, accept the contract of Abomination Coven.”

“And do you,” her voice is monotonous and hypnotic all at once, “swear on your life to not utilise magic for bent purpose?”

“I swear on my life to not use magic for bent purpose.”

“Rise.”

And as she rises, gracefully as she has ever managed, a feeling like honey trickling through her bloodstream takes a hold of her. Warmth fuzzes her veins, leaves her head spinning. A new feeling flows through her: power, A small power, maybe, but wonderful feeling of ability all the same. Suddenly, she knows things she didn’t before, sees a future for herself. It’s as if everything inside of her has finally married into one and she is humming with potential.

The queen nods, acknowledging her pledge, and she is signalled to walk back along the isle to the company pf her onlooking family. The smile adorning her face feels genuine for the first time in ages and she wants to sing, dance, leap around and use the magic to the best of her ability. The energy it’s given her, the freedom! She feels drunk with anticipation.

In her moments of bliss she looks for Luz’s face in the crowd but can’t see her anywhere. _Maybe she isn’t here yet._

The ceremony drags on, hundreds of girls joining covens and being granted their magic, and still no sign of Luz Noceda. She can’t even seem to see her mother, Camila, in any of the crowds surrounding the isle and begins to think maybe they have fled London altogether to start a life on a farm somewhere. She wouldn’t put it past either of them, but wouldn’t they tell her before they left?

Just as she begins to feel panic set in on her bones, her fears are dispelled with brevity. Luz graces the isle with her presence and Amity has to physically restrain the urge to run up and fling her arms around her.

Luz looks utterly ethereal. Amity has never wanted her more or hated herself more for thinking it. Because what is the point? _What is the point of wanting something you can’t have? Someone who has told you, point blank, that you can never have them?_

She’s wearing a white dress, almost similar to Amity’s own gown, but it seems to fit better on her and compliments her tan skin in a way that makes her glow. Like a renaissance angel. Her hair is brushed, combed with intention, but those brown curls at the ends still manage to escape the perfection of her side parting, loosely shaping the ends of each strand. A golden laurel hair piece graces her head. _I love you._

She walks confidently. She is confidence itself. Every set of eyes in the room fix intently on her.

_I love you._

-

“Would you like to dance, Miss. Blight?”

Her mother nods at the man who has bowed before her and held out a single hand gloved in white. He’s not awfully bad looking, Amity notes, but there is something off in the way he smiles, something not exciting at all in the way he seems to hold himself.

She accepts his hand. She has to dance, whether she wants to or not. Maybe they’ll pass Luz somewhere on the dance floor.

The ball, a party hosted by the queen for all new debutants and covenees, is being held this year in the town hall, also known as the Pump Room. It’s too small, really, to hold as many people as it is currently hosting, and the result is that she hasn’t been able to so much as steal a glance at Luz all evening since the first man asked her to dance. Amity had been correct; Luz was the most sought-after girl here. She must be or she would have returned to Amity’s side by now.

The man who has asked her to dance states his name to be Simon. Simon is taller than her by at least three inches and wears a grey suit that makes his green eyes stand out incredibly well. His hair is a pale blonde, making his eyelashes wispy and his eyebrows an almost invisible part of his face. However, he is good company and Amity finds herself enjoying the dance more than she thought she would. The musicians play an upbeat melody, strongly influenced by the sound of violin, and they twirl around to a whirling rhythm. Unhelpful thoughts of Luz seem to vanish when she is busy thinking of which foot to put where. Almost.

“What are your plans once you have married the woman you choose?”

Simon smiles, showing his teeth. “I guess I’d like to start a family. Perhaps move to somewhere a little less lively. Brighton maybe, by the seaside.”

Amity smiles amiably as they twirl. “I’ve never had the pleasure of going to the seaside. Is it lovely?”

“Very. I think you would like it.”

She continues to smile but her gut feels a little repulsed. When they finish dancing, she returns to the side of the room and occupies herself with the canapés. She hopes Simon does not call on her tomorrow, even if he offers her the whole of the seaside as a wedding gift.

She glances around, just to make sure there is no one looking (her mother is preoccupied with talking to some other older women) and then she does something rash. Something Luz would probably do. She beelines for the garden, stepping out into the fresh night air.

The gardens of the town hall are quiet with everyone else still inside, and she wonders over to the wall beside the flower beds, sitting herself on it. There is a large hedge that obscures the entrance to the hall from her view, hiding her temporarily and granting her a feeling of peace. She takes a few seconds to close her eyes and flex her fingers, feeling with pleasure the newfound power running through her veins. It tickles a little.

She glances around, making sure she’s alone, before squeezing her eyes shut and summoning her first abomination from the palms of her hands. It’s a small gloop shaped in the form of a flower. She smiles, flushing with pleasure.

Rustling. A patter of footsteps coming from further down the garden. Amity doesn’t open her eyes, desperately wanting her moment to last and also not really feeling very conversational.

“I knew you’d follow me.”

Her eyes snap open and her head whips upwards too fast, but Amity would know that voice absolutely anywhere. “I thought you were dancing?!”

Luz snorts in that trademark un-ladylike way of hers and settles down beside her. The light coming from within the town hall illuminates her face, making it glow. “I’m all danced out.”

“How many men asked for your hand?” Amity means it as a joke, she _does_ , but it comes out so seriously that she regrets it.

Luz smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Does it matter? There’s only one hand I want.”

And no one is around. No one is watching. The gap between them is so small, so invisible.

Amity laces their fingers together and feels both of their bodies shiver with trepidation. Aware of everything that could go wrong. Neither lets go.

“I joined Potions.”

Amity chews her lip. “Abomination for me.”

“Even though- “

“Even though we agreed I’d argue my case a little more, yes.”

Luz runs her thumb over Amity’s knuckles. It creates a thrill in her bones.

“I made something for you. I thought maybe you could wear it in your hair, but then our carriage man was late and I couldn’t find you in time.”

Amity smiles gently, bites her lip. “What is it?”

Luz closes her eyes, breaths in a gentle breath, and opens up her palms. From the very centre there grows a small arrangement of flowers. A hair piece of intertwined pink and red camellias which twinkle gently in the light of the night sky. Luz carefully traces the edges, shaping them to be just the right size. Then she leans in so close that Amity can count every freckle on those rose-tinted cheeks, see every eyelash. Luz’s fingers in her hair, the night sky. Everything falling away from around them until it’s just the two of them. Her breath is stuck in her throat.

Luz draws back, but their faces are still close. “You know what they mean?”

Amity feels her face growing red. Her palms are sticky. “Maybe.”

“There’s a flower shop three streets away from us that’s just opened up. The lady who owns it is friends with my mother and now,” Luz shifts so their bodies are practically melded, “she’s my friend too. She thinks I have a special lover, so she says I can take whatever flowers I like for free.”

Amity grins, but nervous excitement in her belly is still making her cheeks glow. “’Special lover?””

And no one is looking. No one can see. The lights inside the ballroom don’t reach the garden wall, and the garden wall is obscured by a large green hedge. Luz kisses her, a kiss press to the mouth gone so soon Amity isn’t sure she didn’t dream it, and then she’s standing. Unruffling her dress.

“Flowers are a great form of communication. Anyone can send them…you understand?”

And Amity nods, because she does. “Yes, they are rather lovely.”

-

When her mother asks her who the hair piece was from, she flushes and mumbles Simon’s name. No one has to know who it was really from. But when she’s back in her room, Amity places the hair piece carefully in her box of prized possessions, sealing the lid with a spell and delicately placing it back under her bed. Then she lays down, nightdress adorning her exhausted form, and falls asleep dreaming of Luz and flowers.

Pink and red camellias. She knew what they meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're so cute :,) 
> 
> Flower meanings!  
> Pink camellias: Longing for a loved one.  
> Red camellias: Burning love.
> 
> PLOT is coming I swear but this was just a lil more world building and fluff! And yes, Eda is going to feature in this story as well as many more coded flower gifts and some ANGST. I hope you're ready and that you stick around. Feel free to leave a comment because they always make my day <3 
> 
> Also I have a small lil art account on insta you can follow @katthedoodlecatcher if ya like x
> 
> Lots of love and stay safe xx


	4. Blue Violets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eda's Floral Emporium: Open to all those with a fancy for flourish (and a suitably sized purse).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am BACK fellow lumity nation members, how we all doing? I hope you're safe and well! Here, have some fluffy and wholesome and *plot involving mystery* content. Hope I can feed you well.
> 
> See ya in the end notes as always x

The dance hall, which is hosting tonight’s high-society witch ball, glows with orange orbs that bedazzled the ceiling. The ceiling itself has been spelled to take on the appearance of a starry night sky, deep blues and sparks of white splattered across the high beamed ceiling with remarkable elegance. The rest of the hall is equally beautiful: there is a cleared space in the middle, a shiny wooden floor, which has been polished for dancing. The walls on all four sides are wreathed with different assorts of summer vine, artfully hung in decoration, which are cleverly accentuated by the beige walls which allow their colour to shine. The atmosphere is warm, partly due to the summer evening air which drifts in through the open doors and partly due to the delightful company which is alive with buzzed chatter and anticipation. Who will dance with who tonight? Who will be seen courting someone new? Most importantly of all, will Luz Noceda find someone better than Amity Blight?

Okay, that last one wasn’t being talked about by the various young and eligible witches in the room. That last concern was Amity’s own small fear. The more parties that the both of them attended, the more assured she became that Luz truly was hers and hers alone, but there was always a small doubt nagging the back of her mind. She is lingering with that thought presently, pretending to be busy by the canape table, whilst she watches Luz being asked to dance by yet another young man.

And then she feels a light tap on her shoulder and averts her gaze to a young man of her own.

“Care for a dance?”

Another party. Another beautifully candle-lit hall. Another man asking for Amity’s hand.

She hopes, as she is twirled around effortlessly, that no one notices how little fun she is having. And she feels guilty because why would she not be having fun? There is an orchestra playing on a huge stage at one end of the hall: a raised wooden platform housing various classical musician playing their instruments beautifully. The melody seeps through the air in effortless grace, lulling the dancing couples into an easy ebb and flow of rhythm. Amity’s partner for this particular dance has swoopy dark hair, tanned freckled skin and a sharp jawline, and although he is handsome the one thing he is not is Luz Noceda.

“Are you from around here?” she asks politely, swallowing down her negativity.

The man smiles, boyish and shy. “Yes, actually I am! I live in Harpenden.”

Amity frowns despite herself. “That’s not in London, is it?’

He spins her around, dipping her slightly to a lull in the music. “No, I suppose not. I just never know if people will know where it is so I sort of say I’m ‘from around here’.”

Amity snorts, giggling despite herself. “I understand the logic but bad execution this time I’m afraid.”

They laugh amiably together, and for a split-second Amity finds herself enjoying the ball, the lights, the music. _Dancing isn’t so bad!_ “What’s your name?”

“Micah.”

“My name I- “

He winks, leaving her to spin off to the side, the dance ending with style. “I know your name, Miss. Blight.”

She knows as she is left by the canape table once again (not that she’s complaining) that if Luz had said those lines, she would have found it hard not to faint. But he had been nice, a good dancer, and for once when she was able to spot her mother within the crowd she was met with a look of vague approval.

Her eyes drift across the room, scanning. They finally meet those brown irises, and she feels her heart beat faster. Luz looks…

Luz looks…. jealous.

-

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we could get married?”

They are sitting on a park bench several days later, accompanied by Luz’s mother who has taken a stroll over to the lake (suitably out of earshot). Luz is pressed up against her, but no one bats an eye as various witches walk past their sitting spot. Amity knows it’s because that is simply what they always have been: Amity and Luz. Inseparable. Joint at the hip.

“I think about it all the time.” Luz grins, bashfully, and looks down at her shoes. “We’d have a cottage in a beautiful countryside village. Maybe an orchard with hundreds of apple trees, and we’d have at least three different adopted pets. Maybe two cats and a dog.”

“You would tell me stories every night,” Amity chimes in dreamily.

Luz smiles, the tenderness atom splitting. Amity clears her throat, pops the question.

“Why did you look so…angry the other night? At that party?”

Luz shifts her gaze towards the sky, avoiding eye contact, but there is a heaviness in the way her arms slump further into her lap. Amity lets her think. For a moment they sit in comfortable silence.

Finally, Luz murmurs just loud enough for her to hear “I wanted to dance with you so badly it physically hurt to look at you.”

The weather is cooler today, but sunshine still peeks through the clouds. The greenery of the park, the gentle trickle of distant water flow, the hazy feeling in the air. Amity wonders if magic comes from this feeling: trepidation. Hope.

_Desire._

-

She hopes her face isn’t tomato red as she sets foot, for the first time, into Eda’s floral emporium, but she can feel the heat steaming her cheeks and knows it’s a lost battle. She tries her best to otherwise look composed, shakes her head gently to pull herself together. She can see her reflection in a huge mirror which fills the shop’s back wall, creating a wonderful reflection in which Amity can see herself perfectly surrounded by shades of greens, pinks, reds, blues, yellows and every colour imaginable. The smell is equally glorious. When she breathes in, she inhales the scent of what she imagines a field of freshly bloomed flowers would smell like.

She tries not to stare at her own reflection too much as she potters a little aimlessly around the store for a while, observing the different flower arrangements available and hoping no one will notice of her. The figure in the mirror is still flush-faced, rosy cheeks clashing horribly with today’s pale pink summer dress which falls daintily at her ankles. She sort of feels like a faery in a magical land of botanical wonder, but quickly scolds herself for having such fancy thoughts. The shop is not exactly _busy_ (the only other occupant happens to be a small brown dog) but she desperately wants to meet Eda. Her brother, Ed, is waiting outside for her and she doesn’t have long.

Her eagerness does not go unanswered. As Amity is bending down to observe what she thinks are Lilacs, an assertive but friendly voice rings through the store and graces her ears.

“Looking for anything in particular?”

She starts, standing upright so quickly her head momentarily spins and the flush grows even worse on her cheeks. She tucks a piece of her mint green hair behind her ear and turns around, greatly embarrassed.

“Yes, actually, can you help me find some flowers for...” she pauses, bites her lip, “for a loved one?”

The lady saunters confidently across the shop, weaving her way through the colourful plant occupants until she stands a few meters from her. Amity observes her and immediately knows that she must be Eda: her hair is a soft grey, like rain clouds, and her eyes are a fierce orange-gold. Her beautiful pale skin shines in the sunlit rays streaming in through the window and reflecting back off of the large mirror and there is an air of great mystery about her. Amity also notes that she is… _very_ alluring. There’s something about her that makes Amity want to know _everything_ about her.

“Kid, I haven’t got all day.” The lady smiles kindly, almost cheekily. “Happy to serve but you’re gonna have to work with me slightly, y’know? So, I asked what kind of person is your loved one? Friend, family, betrothed etc?”

Amity casts her eyes downwards, smiles gently. “We’re not betrothed exactly but…you could say that we want to be.”

The lady winks, grin intensifying with mischief. “I see, I see. A love affair to make Romeo and Juliet jealous. Well, I’ve got just the thing for you.”

She bustles away excitedly and disappears around the back of the shop, leaving Amity alone and bemused. She shuffles her feet awkwardly about, rubbing her ankles together. The dog, which had previously been sitting on the wooden till in the back corner, pads towards her cautiously. She feels herself smile despite the nerves in her belly and crouches down to pet him. The animal responds with ease, falling into her hands and demanding belly pats. She happily obeys, not even noticing the footsteps signifying the return of the lady to her side until a throat is cleared. She glances up from her petting stance.

The lady is smiling. “That’s my dog, King. He’s a little attention seeker if you ask me but looks like he likes you in particular.” She chews her lip, brings a hand to her face. “You know, the only other person he seems to like as much as you is…”

Amity tilts her head, questioning, but the lady shakes her head. She places a bouquet of flowers into Amity’s lap. “These are for your special one. Hopefully whoever it is will be impressed, but men are tricky these days.”

Amity internally gags at the word ‘men’ and then quickly scolds herself for being such a brat. “Thank you, Eda, I’m sure he’ll love them.”

Eda raises one singular brow at a perfectly arched angle. “How did you know my name kid?’”

_Quick, think of something! Anything!_

“Your…shop is named Eda’s Emporium?”

Eda momentarily seems unsatisfied, but her curiosity eventually gives way to the return of her confident smile. “Smart, aren’t ya? I like that in a young lady. Now, about payment- “

“Oh, right!”

-

“What about that nice man you danced with last night? His name was…Micah I think?”

Amity chews her bread, staring at her dinner with sudden interest. “Oh he’s…well, I don’t know him.”

Mrs. Blight crosses her arms at the other end of the long oak dining table, her dark green dress rumpling with the resulting creases. “Amity, _what_ is causing this pickiness?” Three men have asked for my permission. Three!”

She hangs her head further over her dinner, slight shame welling in her stomach. They had all been nice men, that was true. Simon, her first debutante dance, had immediately the next day bought her flowers and a special charm bracelet as courting gifts and she had accepted them, told him she’d think, and never responded. The second was some wealthy young upstart who owned a country club in a nearby suburb (a setup of her mother’s crafting) and the third had been Micah. They’d all wanted her.

“So?”

Amity snaps her head up, finally meeting her mother’s gaze. “I want to make sure I marry the right one! It’s not a big deal.”

Odalia rearranges the crumples on her dress, smooths her hair. “Well make haste about it. The sooner you’re married, the better.”

_…well okay._

She decides, as the maid comes to retrieve her dinner plate, to change subjects. “Will we be visiting Emira next week like we planned?”

Her mother shakes her hand dismissively. “Ah, Alador says no, he’s away on business.”

Amity crosses her arms and scowls. “What about what _I_ say?”

Her mother smiles at her, but there is no affection in those lines. “Emira doesn’t want a visit from just one member of our family. If we go and see her and her husband, we all go, including your father, and he is busy with work.” She straightens her already straight dress hem. Whenever Amity’s mother was annoyed, she would compulsively straighten any item of clothing she was wearing.

“But mother I just want to see my sister! Father’s _always_ busy with work and I…” she tries not to tear up (her mother hated it when she cried), “I miss her.”

“Edric misses her too, how do you think he feels? And yet he’s not complaining about it to me all the damned time!”

Amity flinches as her mother looms over her, arms folded and face glowing with anger. She decides to back down and turns away, heading up the stairs to her bedroom to sulk in solace. However, as she reaches the top of the stairs, Edric’s door opens gently and he beckons her inside. She sighs and lets herself be summoned.

Edric’s room is pretty similar to Amity’s (a plain white colour scheme with accents of beige, light and dark greens and occasional reds) but Amity’s favourite feature that adorns one of her brother’s bedroom walls is his small wooden bookshelf. She had asked, many times, for her own bookshelf but her mother had told her reading was unladylike and not necessary for finding a good husband. Edric had often let her sneak a book or two from his shelf at a time so that she could read anyway and enjoy tales of princesses and pirate ships and seven funny dwarfs. They were never quite as wonderful as Luz’s stories, but she adored the way they allowed her to escape reality, just for a while. Safe to say, she did not mind being in his room.

Edric closes the door behind him and sidles over to his desk, flopping down to face Amity who has taken a seat on his four-poster bed. “So, you and mother are fighting again?”

Amity pouts. “She’s being unreasonable.”

Edric chews his lip, brow furrowed. “Look…I know that she _is_ being a little harsh on you. I miss Em too, you know? It’s just…she _has_ just got married and it is rude to visit all the time.”

Amity raises her arms to the air in frustration. “It’s been a whole year! Why does everyone in this family think a whole year is ‘just’ married?!”

Edric grins. “Well, when it happens to you maybe you’ll understand hey, mittens?”

Amity flops backwards onto Edric’s duvet and covers her eyes with arm dramatically. “What if I really _really_ don’t want that?”

“Says the girl who was buying flowers earlier.”

“They weren’t for that! They were for…a friend!”

“Yeah? Who?”

Amity props herself up on her elbows, facing Edric with seriousness. “You promise you won’t tell anyone… _anyone_ …about that?”

Edric grins teasingly. “What’s in it for me?’”

“Escape from murder.”

“How unladylike.”

“I’m very serious.”

He raises his hands in defeat. “Okay okay. The only person I’d even think of telling would be Em anyway and she’s…” he glances away.

Amity slips off the bed and pads over to his desk, wrapping her arms around him from behind. “We both miss her.”

She can feel his sigh weighting his body as it escapes. “Yeah.”

“Why don’t you get married, Ed?’

He turs to face her, eyes full of something that she can’t quite see but knows that whatever it is there is important somehow. “I…don’t know if I ever will. And besides, working for the emperor’s coven is my life. Who needs a wife when I have so much magic to test and experiment?”

Amity smiles and kisses the top of his head. “Well, you have me.”

“You have me too, mittens.”

“I swear if you call me mittens one more time- “

-

The garden is quiet, air thick with summer mugginess. Amity slips through her usual route into the garden and counts the fence panels until she finds the loosened one, waits to feel Luz on the other side and then floats over the fence. It’s a little bit more difficult this time because she’s carrying something and doesn’t want the levitation to spoil the arrangement, so she takes extra care and feels the wind gently curl her hair as the breeze rolls through her.

A light orb glows in-between them and suddenly Amity feels as though she hasn’t beheld that beautiful face in years. Luz sits before her, adorned in a light brown nightgown. Her eyes are so soft, her little hairs curled at the end, her lips moist and slightly parted. Amity kisses her without even thinking and suddenly they’re wrapped around each other, gentle hands running through hair and breeze cooling flaming cheeks. Amity feels the illumination of the light feed a certain feeling in her chest that is desperate to be fed. With Luz’s lips on hers, with their fingers intertwined, it feels like she herself is glowing on the inside.

When they finally part, she notices that she is sitting in Luz’s lap, and also notices that it is comfy. She looks down at her, those brown eyes blazing, and places another kiss to her forehead.

“I missed you.”

Luz strokes Amity’s hair gently, fingers threading through the loose fringe. “Missed you too. It’s been two days.”

Amity wraps her arms around the smaller girl’s body and simply holds her close, hugging her and breathing her in. She smells like sandalwood and lavender. She smells warm.

They stay intwined together for what feels like minutes before Luz finally breaks the silence, hands still touching Amity’s hair. “Are those for me?” She’s grinning, but the blush in those cheeks gives her away as bashful. Amity grins pleased with herself.

“I had to see this Eda lady, so I bought you a gift.”

She holds the arrangement of blue violets out to Luz who takes them gently. “Pretty.”

“Like you.”

Luz bats her arm playfully, but the blush is definitely spreading across her cheeks. “Sshh. What did you tell Eda?”

“Well, she asked who they were for and I said ‘someone special’ and she seemed to think me and that someone were the equivalent of Romeo and Juliet but also more romantic. So…” she trails off, smiling at the memory.

Luz sniffs the flowers, eyelashes fluttering shut, before she places them down gently on Amity’s lap and replaces her hands on the taller girl’s back. “That reminds me…Eda might actually be able to help us. It’s sort of a bargain I’ve made with her. I trust her so I need you to trust her too.”

Amity nods, curious.

“Well, it started when I was talking to her in the back of her shop one day after closing. You know, she’s friends with my mother so sometimes she lets me spend time there and…yeah. Anyway, we were talking about her sister Lilith and how she fled London to be with this _girl_ which, you know, obviously made me super interested and Eda noticed, and she sort of…assumed. She definitely knows I have a female love interest of some kind, but she doesn’t know it’s you so don’t be afraid!”

Amity nods, a little bemused.

“So, I asked where Lilith went, and she said that if I helped her out, she would not only tell me _where_ she went but also help me and whoever I wanted to get there too.”

Amity shakes her head with amazement. “You just happened to stumble on this lady who’s going to be our saviour?”

Luz grins, looking smug. “I have my ways. But…the hard part is what she wants us to do. She wants us to…spy. For her.”

“How would we do that?”

Luz swallows, fiddles with Amity’s hair some more. “We’d both need to work with the local wild witches in order to find out what’s really going on with the coven system. Ever since the Emperor disappeared and the Queen became coven master, wild witches have started not only being prosecuted but also going…well… _missing._ She wants us to see what we can find out. Just for a few months.”

Amity blinks for a few moments, processing. “So, we become…spies?”

“Essentially, yes. Look I know it’s silly we don’t have to- “

“Yes.”

Luz blinks once. Twice. “Really?”

Amity stares at her, feeling that intensity burning in her gut. “I told you once, I’ll tell you again: I would do anything for you.” She smiles to herself, biting her lip before remeeting Luz’s brown eyes and saying “I guess I am strange. My mother was right.”

Luz brings their faces even closer together, until Amity is a breath away from her lips, can count all the freckles on Luz’s nose, see all the individual eyelashes fanned put against her perfect skin. Luz murmurs “I’m strange too” because saying ‘I love you’ feels too big in the moment, but Amity knows that is what she means.

A moment of peace passes by, where the gentle night wind and stray sky simply hum with ambiance. And then Amity realises something.

“What about your mother, Luz?”

“My mother would come with us.”

“But…?”

Luz shakes her head. “Wherever I go she will follow. Even if it takes time. I know it just as much as I know that this is the right thing to do.”

Amity closes her eyes again, thinking. _A mother who would follow her to the ends of the earth. I wish._

-

That night, after Luz heads back inside, Amity still can’t summon sleep. She instead stares up at her bedroom ceiling and thinks deeply. She thinks about Emira and her husband living miles away from them. She thinks about Edric, that unspoken something behind his eyes that Amity wishes she could understand. She thinks about her mother and the way she fiddled with her clothes as if they were constricting her. She thinks about her father, always away on business doing who knows what.

For once in her life, her thoughts turn to the coven system.

The coven system had always just been…there, in every witch’s mind, as a fixed and established thing. You choose a track when you’re eighteen to specialise in. When you’re nineteen you either confirm your track as your coven or you join the Queen’s (once named ‘Emperor’s’) coven. Then you spend the rest of your life perfecting your magic and using it to help the running of day-to-day London life. That is what was normal. That was the way.

And wild witches? Amity has heard of them but so has every young witch. They lurk in the shadows, live to cause chaos. They don’t want to contribute to society. They are selfish and greedy and power-hungry. That is what her mother and father had told her growing up. That was what her schoolteachers had taught her and every other witch. But what if that wasn’t true?

What if nothing about this world was as perfect as she had thought it to be?

She gives up on sleep and sits up in her four poster, wrapping her legs into her chest and resting her chin on her knees. Her regular white nightdress feels smooth against her skin and she focuses on the feeling in order to bring her mind back to calm. Sleepily, she stretches, pads over to the window nook of her room and decides to sit there for a bit, watching the gentle moonlight dance across the herb garden. There, in the silence of the night, where no one is watching (not even Luz) she tries something highly illegal.

Closing her eyes tight shut, she casts an illusion spell.

A circle of blue light glows, reflected by the window, in her face and forces her eyes to remain shut but she can _feel_ the magical energy rushing to the very tips of her fingers, electrifying every nerve within her body. This doesn’t feel like summoning her abominations. This feels like fire slinking inside her, alighting a power she never knew she had.

Opening one eye, she observes the slightly childlike image she has produced, a simple drawing of an apple. It shines in mid-air, crystal clear: an outline of blue.

_If I can summon illusions…even though I’m bound to abomination…then everything I thought I knew…._

_What do I really know about magic?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flower Guide (as mentioned so far)  
> \- Blue Violets: Watchfulness/faithfulness/I'll always be with you.  
> \- Pink Camellias: Longing.  
> \- Red Camellias: A flame in my heart. 
> 
> also a wonderful reader has MADE FANART for this au and it makes my heart SWELL it's so adorable! Check it out and show some love over at: https://www.instagram.com/p/CL8kts_pqFA/?igshid=4h4flhkiw1yp (BIG THANKS AND LOVE <3).
> 
> Not me being a character person over plot and then writing fics with detailed af plots on my ao3 whaaa?? In all seriousness, I have a real vision for this story now and I am so excited to write it! Kinda conflicted because there's other things I wanna write too and I have so much work to do (it's my final year of uni AHH) but even if uodates are slow I reckon this will be 3 or 4 more chapters long. Strap yourselves in, I'm going nowhere soon.
> 
> Leave a comment if you wanna make me smileee (I love reading them) and I hope you have a lovely day/night. <3

**Author's Note:**

> We also deserve regency AUs and that's the tea. Also yes this is an incredibly niche fic but something has to fill my soul during this hiatus so x


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